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Browsing named entities in a specific section of Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore). Search the whole document.

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Exeter, N. H. (New Hampshire, United States) (search for this): chapter 345
hopes to gild the coming day, Warm greetings with a host of friends, Ready to join the bloody fray. And when the morning tints the sky With deepening blushes fringed with gold, To meet their foe the brave ones fly, Determined still to win and hold. That day again the battle's rage Is terrible as death can be; Eight score of thousands there engage In closest fight for victory. Heaven favors now the loyal host, And crowns them with the joy they crave, They firmly stand at duty's post, And rout their foes, though strong and brave! Night coming leaves with them the field; Gone foes, gone doubts, gone wildest fears; The victor's palm again they wield, Though at the price of blood and tears. The battle-ground is piled with slain; Ah! thousands sleep to wake no more, And thousands still feel keenest pain From mangled bodies drenched in gore! Yet such the price of liberty, A nation's dearest, bloodiest prize; But blessed is it to be free, And love will make the sacrifice. Exeter, N. H.
Shiloh, Tenn. (Tennessee, United States) (search for this): chapter 345
105. Ballad of Shiloh. the battle of Pittsburgh Landing is called by the confederates, the battle of Shiloh. An army of the loyal North, An army of the rebel South, In gathering squadrons hastening forth, To face the cannon's blazing mouth. One comes from recent battle-fields, And forts along the river-side; The laurel of a conqueror wields-- Decking the banner of its pride! The other, maddened by defeats And sore disasters met in flight, With sternest desperation greets The coming of its foe to fight. The white tents of the one along The river's winding valley gleam, Within which rings full many a song, And brightens many a home-lit dream! But by its victories grown bold, And confident of giant power, It fails its wonted guard to hold, To meet the fortunes of the hour. Looks far too meanly on its foe, Believing it will never dare To leave its stronghold till a blow Most crushing drives it to despair. A wild and foolish dream, alas! More daring is its rebel foe; Before them lies